AT LARGE

Evening Star, Issue 19712, 12 November 1927, Page 2

AT LARGE

SOME READING MAXIMS OF A GREAT BOOKMAN

I have from time to time written about reading, but the subject is as inexhaustible as the books which it creates. It is good to know in. all spheres the ideas and methods of experts. , In modern times there: ‘ was perhaps no greater bookman than the late Sir Robertson Nicoll. His knowledge of literature in almost every department, except the scientific, was probably unique. It ought to be ( of interest, therefore, to know something of bis reading habits. Here and there throughout His writings ho has told us something of those. I propose to bring together a few of his ideas on the subject, putting them frequently in his own words. * * * * The true bookman must begin about 10. If he starts later he is probably taken up with routine studies. It was thus with himself, and in these days in which the “ Penny Dreadful” type of literature comes in foe some hard knocks it is interesting to know that Nicoll began, as i did myself, with the ‘ London Journal,’ the ‘ Family Herald,’ and publications of that sort. As to the quality of reading, lie thinks, reasonably enough, that young people might be able to give at least two hours a day to reading.' That could be quite easily accomplished in these days, when the hours of labor and of leisure are so accommodating. If that were done it would mean a hundred and four volumes in the year, and ought to give a fair knowledge of the better books of the literary class. There is a simple and easy test as to whether you are fond of reading or not: Have you always time for it? When there is a taste for it the time will be found. One who has the taste can easily manage to get through two books in the week—one old and one now. He himself had to review seven novels in one week, and he managed, also, to get through 1 The Newcomes ’ again without perceptible demoralisation. .And that suggests the subject of re-reading. This should be frequently done. One gets more thought from ■reading ‘ The Newcomes ’ for the sixth time than from the host six novels of the season. Ho tells of a. riot he had of reading now books, hut 1 The Fortunes of Nigel,’ which he had likely read for the twentieth time, gave him more than all the rest. One’s reading of 1 Ivanhoo ’ at 16 is something quite different from one’s reading at 60. The reason, of course, is not that the book has changed, but the experiences of life have changed us. Each experience, or the repetition of thorn, oileus, as it were, new eyes, by which old things seem new again. “ The great books of the imagination are written in invisible ink; they are understood only by experience. You must be able'to hold their pages before the fire of life ere their full significance appears to you.” How long a time should elapse between the readings? That depends on the motive. Some think the value of re-reading is best when it is done before time has obliterated tho salient points of the book. But there is something to be said for the re-reading of a book of which we have practically no memory at all. In general, informative books should be read more frequently than narrative ones. 1 ( or the reader who has no professional end in view a reasonable re-reading period would be about five years. In that interval we have accumulated a vast store of thought and experience of one sort and another; so much so, indeed, that an author that appeals to us, say, at 15 or 20, wo have quite outgrown at SO or 40. But this never happens with the great masters in any department of literature. Any schoolboy to-day could give points to Aristotle on geography or history, but the old Greek still remains the master of those who know. » ♦ * * As to tho methods of reading, a man should find out where his tastes lie; but he should not limit himself to those only who respond to it. One dish may bo enough for a dinner if there is variety in it. But one kind of study tends to make the mind squint-eyed. As another great litterateur happily puts it: “Road what you like; road what you don’t like; read what you ought to like.” One ought to have three kinds of books corresponding to the Psalmist’s grading—lover, friend, acquaintance. Near your heart will bo the little circle of books that you Jove, the hooks that you know by their feel and could find in the dark, and which you talk of to anybody who will listen sympathetically. In an outer range are the books that are friends. You do not Jove these like the others, but you are glad : to have -them, and look into them at times. One’s mental life is determined by its lovers and friends. But there is no reason why one should not also have acquaintances-r-and a great number of them—if it were only for this; that tho acquaintanceships help us to appreciate our lovers and friends. He quotes with approval Dr Arnold’s advice: “Keep your view of men and things extensive, and depend upon it that a mixed knowledge is not a superficial one.” Ho who reads deeply one class of writers only gets views which are almost sure to be perverted, and which are not only narrow, but false. There is something to be said for courses of reading, but those who go in for these very seldom care for reading itself. They are never likely to become bookmen in the true sense of that word. ■ ♦ ■ ♦ * Nicoll's favorite reading apparently was poetry and biography. He always ended up the day by a nightcap of the former. In regard to biography, he had at least 4,000 volumes in his library. And ho can safely say that he i has learned something from them all. It is hardly possible to write a totally worthless book about a human life. With poetry as with biographical books ho never liked to part, “ but most books of history, most of science, most encyclopedias and dictionaries become superseded, and may he left behind without a,tear, or pang.” .. . » w , » * In regard to. lho : rate of reading, this varies, of course, with different people and with the kind of book. Nicoll took a kind of census of this. He found that the great majority read an ordinary story at the rate of some 8,000 or-9,000 words in half an hour. Some foil below this, as low as 4,000; others .rose a little above it, but in no case was any mention made of over 12,000. He made, experiments with himself, and found when there was no occasion for

halting he poulcl do about 12,000 words half an ■ hour. A book reviewer in tn 3 ‘ Daily Mail r said recently that one ought to be able to do 300 words a minute- That may bo all right for a certain class of books, but it would not do, wo think, for the average reader, who wants to browse leisurely and intelligently in the volume which interests him, Nicoll says that readers 5 should not skip. “Jt is an infamous practice, and tends to muddle the brain more than anything else. It tends to destroy all sense of accuracy and thoroughness.” No doubt. But one would like to know just how a re-‘ viewer who gets through, say, a dozen of novels and half a dozen other books in a week can do it without skipping and without injustice to the author. Can one keep up the love of reading with the adVanco of years? Samuel Butler says that after thirty we slow down in our reading, and by forty it is confined mainly to each person’s special subjects and to newspapers and magazines. And that great critic, Hazlitt, says “ he was never able to read a book through after thirty.” That is a rather astonishing statement. The reason is, no doubt, that as we grow older one’s mind expands, becomes more self-re-liant, more agile, and less needing the crutches of other minds. He finds that they are only different settings of certain great, fundamental verities. As old Omar puts it: Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument About it and about; but evermore Came out at the same door wherein I went. * « # $ 9 But it does not appear to have been so with Nicoll. He quotes with great approval the description of a “ Literary Clinic” by an American essayist. The latter tells of a visit he paid to a celebrated doctor Over his door was a sign: “ All ailments cured by reading.” In his office was a roomful of patients. The doctor gave to one this volume, to another that, and a third something else, and so on. He asked them to read the books presented for a certain number of days, and then come back to him till ho would see how the prescription worked. The lady who tells the story says she seemed thus to see the books on her shelves range themselves like the bottles of a chemist’s shop, and, instead of titles of books, she saw ether, calomel, quinine, and various liniments—“ all ailments cured by reading.” Nicoll would almost, if not altogether, agree. He would say, with Southey: My days among the dead are passed; Arouud me 1 behold, Where’er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old. My never failing friends are they With whom I converse day by day. Or, to put his sentiments into words of his own: “A love of books will save us from a fever, from fretfulness, from fear, from envy, from the baser and malignant passions. Nor will their solace fail us when the rest fail. On the contrary, it becomes greater and surer as the toilsome years draw home.” Ron.